


And Taste Her Grace

by rubylily



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubylily/pseuds/rubylily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What happens in Monte d'Or stays in Monte d'Or." Even if that was true, Dalston still just wants to see Angela smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Taste Her Grace

**Author's Note:**

> De-anon from the Professor Layton Anonymous Kink & Fan Meme, and the prompt asked for something based on the phrase "What happens in Monte d'Or stays in Monte d'Or." Minor spoilers for _Miracle Mask_.

"What happened in Monte d'Or stayed in Monte d'Or." Such a saying referred to more than just the tourists' finances, and for those who lived in Monte d'Or, it just meant they could not escape their actions.

Dalston brushed some of Angela's blonde hair from her face. She was on top of him, her pale body barely illuminated by the candles they had lit. The two of them were inside a suite of one of the several hotels he owned, and the curtains were tightly shut, but even if they were opened, night had already fallen, so little natural light would be given to them. But darkness was good enough for them.

Angela touched the side of his face, her hand warm against his skin. He hadn't noticed just how small her hand was before, and now that she was naked, he finally saw just how thin she really was.

Truth be told, he was almost afraid of actually touching her.

He laid one hand on her slim waist and his other hand on her shoulder, feeling her soft skin against his calloused hands. For someone who had once dated a wannabe archeologist, her skin was mostly free of blemishes, Dalston noticed.

Angela leaned in to kiss him, and her arm brushed against the silk bed sheets. "Are these clean?" she asked as she pulled back, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Cleaned everyday," Dalston answered without hesitation, also trying to keep his voice low for her comfort. Of course, he didn't want to imagine how many other people had already had sex on these sheets. Monte d'Or really was gaining a seedy reputation. Not that he minded, though.

As if reading his mind, Angela frowned, and then she lowered her head to kiss his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her back, being careful not to hurt her. Her body was warm against his, and he could easily feel her heartbeat, but she still felt so _frail_. It was really starting to worry him.

"Hey..." Dalston said, running his fingers through Angela's hair. "You sure you really want this?"

Angela lifted herself up and looked down at him; her gaze was almost unnerving. "Yes, this is fine," she answered, her tone neutral. "Please, go on."

Dalston smiled, and he cupped Angela's face so that he could kiss her again. Now, if only he could get her to actually smile...

She slipped her tongue past his lips as she stroked his face, and he pressed his hand more against the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. Her hands traveled down to his neck, and then his shoulders, her fingernails scraping along his skin. If she wanted to scratch him until he bled, he wouldn't mind at all.

His other hand ran down her spine, first tracing her shoulder blades and then trying to explore every inch of her back. She was so bony, he thought as he stared at her through half-lidded eyes; if he held her any tighter, would she break?

In that case, he would just have to be careful, even if he was fairly certain she would be offended at him treating her like a porcelain doll.

Angela shifted her body, and she was completely on top of Dalston now, her breasts brushing against his chest, and she let out a sharp gasp, breaking the kiss. Well, she couldn't have missed how aroused he was now, and if he didn't know any better, she almost seemed surprised.

After all these years married to Ledore, she couldn't still be a virgin, could she?

Even in this dim light, Dalston still saw a faint blush forming on Angela's cheeks, as if answering his unspoken question. Okay then, that did change things a little bit.

"I've got a better idea," Dalston said, sitting up and pulling himself from underneath Angela, and then he stood up. "Come sit at the edge of the bed."

Angela just eyed him suspiciously, and he saw her fingers clench. "All right," she finally replied as she nodded, and she swung her legs off of the bed and then looked up at him.

Dalston was thankful it was so dark, as she probably couldn't see how red his face was now. He inhaled a deep breath and then got down on his knees in front of Angela, and he laid his laid his hands on her thighs, making sure he didn't grip too tightly. He didn't want to leave bruises on her pale skin, although now he really doubted that Ledore would ever notice. Still, he didn't want to hurt her.

Angela placed her hand on his hair, her fingertips brushing along the scalp, almost in a comforting gesture. He could've laughed, and then he lowered his head between her legs.

Dalston wasn't as inexperienced as she thought he was. This was Monte d'Or, after all. If he could just give her a little bit of pleasure...

He pressed his tongue against her sex, and she let out a sharp gasp as she twisted her fingers in his hair, and he winced, but he didn't pull back. He got a reaction out of her, which was a good start at least.

She was very warm, and he could feel her body quivering. "Please..." she breathed, panting heavily, and her other hand also found its way into his hair, her fingers curling around each individual strand.

That was encouragement enough for Dalston to continue. He was teasing her, his tongue being slow and deliberate, and while he couldn't see her expression, he could clearly imagine the look on her face. Though, he could sure hear her well enough, all her little moans and gasps.

"A-Ah...!" Angela moaned, her breathing raspy, and her fingers tensed around his hair, and while that did hurt, she wasn't trying to pull his head back. Her legs were almost twitching, as if she wanted to kick out, and Dalston tightened his hold on her thighs to help keep her still; the last thing he wanted was to get kneed in the face.

She wrapped her ankles around his back, pulling him forward a little, and that nearly knocked him off balance. Her body was shaking even more now, and he pressed his tongue against her clit, and her body tensed, as if she had just felt a burst of pleasure jolt down her spine.

When Angela reached climax, she let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a cry and a moan, and she let herself fall back onto the bed with a soft _thump_.

Dalston wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and he then he lay down on the bed next to Angela, wrapping his arm around her thin waist. His own arousal still bothered him, and he hoped she didn't notice. "Well?" he asked, feeling her soft skin beneath his fingertips.

She turned her head to meet his gaze, reaching her hand out to touch the back of his neck. "Thank you, Alphonse," she said in a quiet voice; she rarely referred to him by his given name. "For indulging me like this."

Dalston laughed. "Don't think anything of it!" he replied, grinning. "What happens in Monte d'Or stays in Monte d'Or, remember?"

A faint smile appeared on Angela's lips, and she couldn't help but let out a hushed laugh. "We both live here, so I doubt that quite applies to us," she said as she pulled herself closer to him, resting her head on his chest.

Dalston said nothing in reply; he just raised his hand to touch her face and play with her hair. Even if Angela was right, he was just happy he finally got her to smile.


End file.
